


Count Your Lucky Stars

by HedaBeka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bellarke, F/M, Grounder princess, Slow Burn, Some death, You gotta love it, grounder!clarke, okay so maybe lots of torture, some torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-11 16:04:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedaBeka/pseuds/HedaBeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a dropship lands in her territory, a grounder named Clarke volunteers to monitor the lives of the new dwellers but when she is caught near their camp she must face the consequences. *Slow burn Bellarke*</p><p>ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Count your lucky stars

As the sun creeped above the tree tops and scattered it's rays throughout the cluttered camp, a tree branch swayed softly beneath the feet of a shadowed figure. Her clothes were made of toughened material that blended well with the deeper shades of soggy leaves, but if not for the mud combed into her light blonde hair her position would've been compromised. It wasn't as if she had any reason to fear being found for she hadn't initiated any harmful acts, but after observing the rambunctious teens she didn't doubt that they'd leap at the chance to show their new-found strength.

Her eyebrows crinkled inward as she narrowed her eyes in on the group crowding the entrance of the camp, attempting to listen into the chatter that reverberated back towards her. A shallow sigh traced her lips as she crept through the branches, careful to keep her feet steady on the soggy branches. She wasn't too far away from the cluster now, merely 12 feet overhead and a few yards off from their position on the ground. Her breathing quieted as she bent low on her branch, pressing her back into the trunk in an attempt to hide herself as much as possible. If she was found she would have a short time to make her escape, and even with her experience at tree hopping she doubted she could stay out of the line of the firearms being waved around currently.

"Hey!" A shout cracked the air and sent her body back against the tree as she stiffened, searching for the person who had spoken, fearing the worse. Her foot fidgeted on the branch and slid slightly, causing the branch to shake before she brought it back. Her breathing had hitched, but no other noise had escaped her. And lucky she was for despite the voice calling out to a friend, the shuffle in the branch had caused the guard's attention to swivel towards her treeline. A few moments slipped by in silence as a man a few years older than the others held a hand up to silence the crowd. Their gazes shifted between the group of trees, but with the brush of a breeze swaying the trees her movement was soon ignored.

_Thank god._ She let out a breath before weaving back towards her old post in the trees, hoping to get a good distance built up so that she could leap down and report back to camp. Scouting the sky people wasn't as exciting as she had hoped it to be when she had originally volunteered for the task. It had been over a week and all she had seen was a few tussles, sloppy sex, and a badly organized hunting parties returning with wounds after striking each other in the confusion. Amusing, but definitely not as fascinating as discovering a new species of human.

A soft hmph drew out over her breath as she slipped down onto a lower branch, eyes scraping over the undergrowth. The green remained still and after a moment of silence she slipped down from the branch, hitting the ground lightly in a crouched position. A rustle echoed from behind her and her body was turned within the second, her hand up in front of her chest clutching a long knife. Her eyes scanned the green growth as she scrambled backwards and up to her feet. The rustling had halted, but the feel of eyes on her still burned strong as she felt her fingers clench around the blade's hilt.

"Reveal yourself," she hissed. The crinkling of leaves crackled through the air as she moved her other hand back to sit on the long blade that protruded from the sheath strapped to her back. "Come out, coward."

A man slunk out from behind the brush, a mop of messy brown hair grazing the goggles that were fixed over his eyes. Were they for protection? Her hand drew the sword out of its sheath as she held it out in front of her, a sly grin dripping over her lips as she put the knife back away into its sheath at her hip and traded the sword into her dominant hand. "Retreat." The word was a growl, and the boy appeared both startled and angered by her demand for him to flee. Her eyes grazed over his features as his muscles tensed, and she spotted the slight crinkle of his right hand as it hid something behind his thigh. The smirk fell as she lashed out with the sword in a quick sweep, forcing him to fall back so that she could have the chance to turn and rush away through the brush. It wasn't a proud thing to do-to retreat from a fight she knew she'd win- but she wasn't about to alert the others to her position and give them a reason to slaughter her and her people.

A crashing noise followed close behind, and she quickened her pace as she lengthened her stride and hopped over uneven surfaces, hoping her experience on the terrain will give her an advantage. She heard a soft muttering of voices behind her but ignored their far away conversations as she paused at a stream, wrapping her head around the confusing thoughts that suctioned her feet to the spot. She wasn't stupid enough to lead them towards her camp, and knew better than to continue her flailing sprint through the forest. If they had any trackers she'd be tracked down easily and end up on a spit within hours. A grunt passed her lips as she trudged through the stream, keeping her head up as she listened in for any voices or footsteps behind her. It was very quiet, but she doubted it would remain. No doubt they'd regroup and set out after her.

"I can retreat to the cave or hideout in the trees." She murmured slightly before taking off back into the forest, shuffling up a tree after jogging a good mile from the stream. "That should do just fine for-" She was cut off by a loud pang and groan as a bullet struck the branch she perched on, and the branch groaned before dropping her like a dead weight to the ground. She had reached up to snag a branch, but only managed to cause herself to land outstretched on her side.

"You got her!" A yell snapped her out of her confusion as she scrambled to her feet, forcing the dizzy fit to subside as she unsheathed her sword and swept it out in front of her. It snagged the shirt of a boy rushing her and to her delight he let out a yelp of surprise and pain. A smirk crept across her lips before falling back into a straight line. She could see three boys currently: the one with the ripped shirt and two others positioned behind him and off to the side. Her hair swept over her shoulder as she jerked her body back and forth, sweeping the sword through the air as she eyed the men.

A crack sounded behind her and she twisted quickly to face the eldest man in the camp, the one who she had deemed the leader. The handle of a gun cracked against her head, and she crumpled slowly to the ground with an audible groan. Her eyes swept groggily over the space before slipping closed, the image of the man who struck her smirking glued to her eyelids.

A faint voice trickled to her as she felt a hand grab harshly at her arms, "Count your lucky stars, they may be your last." And with that she felt herself sink away as unconsciousness drowned out the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it isn't clear the main focus point is currently Clarke, who is a grounder, and the first boy she runs into is Jasper. The man to knock her out was Bellamy.  
> Next Chapter is much longer


	2. Jus Dein Jus Daun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now stuck in the care of the 100, Clarke must hold her own as she fights to survive her imprisonment.

Clarke

A sea of churning green rocked back and forth through her vision as she felt her body sway continually against a solid mass. No, not just a mass but the back of a muscled person. Her eyes rolled slowly as she tried to focus her vision on something, anything, but she was being carried and her head ached too much to narrow in on the trees that whipped across her vision. A short groan escaped her as she bumped against her carrier's shoulder blades. Her eyelids slipped closed before she maneuvered herself to look towards the direction they headed, hoping to capture something of familiarity. Sadly, the only common sight was that of her carrier: a man that stood a head taller than her and carried himself with an air of authority; the one who the other teenagers had run to for orders while she was spying. Her eyelids slipped closed as her upper body crashed back against his spine.

Even throughout the shuffle between consciousness and unconsciousness she could feel the soft sway of her body patting against the man's back as the group made its way back to camp. Her fingers curled into the soft fabric of a shirt as she woke up once more, and she felt the cool thread of rope that hooked her hands together in a cruel bond. _Nice going, Clarke, you couldn't even flee successfully._ She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity before her eyelids parted to spot the gate of the sky people's camp. Even in her daze she felt a jolt of adrenaline strike her as she scrambled against the man's back, nails scratching through the shirt as she hurled herself off of his shoulder. A loud patter of feet answered her escape and she soon was clawing at a new set of arms as two boys snagged her by the arms and dragged her backwards.

"A fighter? Well, let's see how long you last." The voice was that of the eldest boy, and was a sort of cackle. A similar snarl pulsed through the group as they hiked her up and continued their slow walk to the gate. It was admittedly a decent setup that they had, but in her circumstances she now growled at the earlier praise she had given the group on their handiwork. They weren't just children dropped to the ground; they had acquired skills that would now lead to her demise.

The yowling of voices broke her out of her reverie of thought causing her to part her eyes, though she didn't recall closing them, once more and graze them along the bodies flying her way. A jolt of pain in her abdomen pulled her back towards the boys carrying her, and a thwack to the head sent her reeling into the body of the eldest man who had positioned himself behind her while she had been lost in thought. The teenagers had collapsed in on her in a flurry of swinging limbs and angered yowling. A blow to her cheek sent her body to the ground in a limp pile, and the screeching voices faded with her vision even as the force of the blows weighted heavier on her limbs.

Clarke woke with her back pressed up against cool metal, partially curled up in the corner of what she suspected to be the inner cavity of the drop ship. Her skin prickled and goose bumps rose along her arm; they had removed her jacket and left her in her gray undershirt. Despite her location being in a metal coffin with no windows she could feel the chill of night in the air and knew the moon had crept high into the sky. The forest would glow bright tonight; it was nearly a full moon. But she would not be able to enjoy it. A growl caressed her lips as she pushed herself up on her elbows, fighting against the pain that seared through her muscles. It came as a shock to her just how capable she was of moving seeing as her body was etched with claws of blood and pulsing, purple bruises had already floated to her skin's surface around them. A shutter swept through her shoulders as she scrambled to her feet, only to be jerked backward by a chain that encircled her wrists. Fuck.

"What's the rush?" She twisted around in her chains, ignoring the bite of the chain links against her wrists as she faced the owner of the cool voice. It was the eldest member of the sky people; it was the man who had shown himself to be the closest thing to a leader for the group of fitful teens. A growl crackled at the back of her throat and vibrated her lips as the man continued to speak, "You aren't going anywhere anytime soon, so I suggest you sit back and relax while you still can."

Her blues eyes slid over him, narrowed on his hands as they twirled a knife. No, not just any knife but _her_ knife. She jerked forward with a grimace. _How dare he steal what was rightfully mine? He had burnt a chunk of our forest with his crash and staked a claim on their land, so why must he continue to curl his fingers around every little thing that is ours? It took me years of training to earn that bloody knife!_ She jerked once more on the chain, holding her hands over her head so that she could push herself closer towards the boy. Even if the knife remained with him she refused to be tortured at the hand of her own weapon. She doubted he'd torture her quite yet when she hadn't attacked his group, but as he jammed the tip of the blade into a table that security sunk.

"So, what's a pretty little girl doing out in the forest all alone?" The boy's voice held an air of calm curiosity and patience. _Such bullshit._ She had lived among enough dominant, manipulative personalities to know better than to trust the curve of a voice when his lips were barely managing to conceal the crinkle of smirk. Clarke lifted her chin up, squaring her shoulders back as she met his neutral gaze with her own pointed glare. The boy gave a slight humph before crossing the floor, settling just out of her reach as he stretched his knife hand out to tip the blade up against the delicate skin below her chin to urge her gaze upward.

"The silent treatment isn't fair." He tipped the knife up higher so that the blade pierced the soft skin of her chin, "Now, why were you on our territory?" The knife dug a little deeper and the crease between Clarke's eyebrows furthered its path as she narrowed her eyes on his, a smirk finding its way onto her lips and startling the boy. "What are you-" He jolted back as a glob of spit spattered across his cheek. The knife had dropped from his hands and she slammed herself forward, reaching as far as the chains allowed so she could snag the knife between her fingers before waving it at length towards him. The smirk remained as she twisted in her chains while backing away, her eyes fixated on the muscles in his arms as she waited for him to lash out to retrieve it.

_Now!_ As he leaned forward to snatch it away she jolted forward as well, raising her arms and jerking the chain in a circular fashion as she tried to sweep it towards his skull hoping to loop him. The lead snagged though and only managed to crack against his cheek bone; Meanwhile, the knife that followed had scraped into his shoulder. Yes! It was a small victory, but the spray of blood and the look of utter disgust in his eyes was thrilling. That was until his fist collided with the side of her face sending her onto her side, eyes rolling back.

Bellamy

After the little game with the prisoner had ended with the grounder being knocked out, Bellamy had made his way out to his tent for some quick shut eye. Quick turned into ten hours though and he found himself awakening with the sun sitting high in the sky. He held in a grumble as he made his way out of his tent, chest bare as he swept the shirt over his head and onto his torso. The camp was wide awake with a few guards setting out on a new shift, and those who had no job outside the camp were tending to the organization and care of the meat, nuts, and plants that had been brought in on a early morning hunt.

His head bobbed slightly as he passed the teenagers stripping the skin off of a boar. The group paused briefly to acknowledge the leader before their heads fell back down to tend to the meat, though they stayed down for only a few minutes before jolting up at the sound of a fast approaching hunting party. The crackling of branches and the shuffle of brush was far from careful, and heads turned all throughout the camps as weapons were drawn from the barrels stationed throughout the camp. Bellamy, for one, had already made his way to the guard post where they swept their guns over the foliage. Within moments the bodies of his people crashed over the hill and around the trees, guns lowered as they shoved their way to the barricade.

"Open up! Grounder spotted just 100 yards out, we need Finn and an order to follow!" Miller shouted over the broad door, impatiently pushing through the door as soon as it creaked open. "This one isn't as clueless, they hid instead of running." The man nearly slammed into Bellamy as he led the way back into the clearing, eyes sweeping over the tents for the tracker, Finn.

Bellamy backed up a pace to avoid being bustled further by the man, but not before giving him a thin lined scowl. "How many?" He eyed the group as they traded weaponry. The guns were thinly distributed in a hunting party to decrease the urge to waste bullets, but now the kids were greedily snatching them up and tossing their spears aside. He turned his body square with Miller who had managed to call Finn over and strap a gun to his hip.

"One, that we know of. He disturbed one of our catches but didn't flee like the girl." Miller turned away sharply and led his group out before Bellamy could get a word in. The two were close to equal in power and it had become unnecessary for them to engage in a tedious argument about what method to use when checking into grounder sightings. Every moment meant another stride to run to catch up and they weren't about to let the grounders sprawl out in their new found home. He followed shortly behind the group and closed the doors, tipping his head to the side to signal the guard to go back to his post. The grounder sightings had increased the moment the grounder girl had been taken in and they could no longer afford a distracted guard.

He broke away from the entrance of the camp and headed back to the drop ship. A figure crossed in front and he paused briefly in front of the drop ship door, eyebrows quirking up as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Need something, Jasper?" The man before him shuffled uneasily on his feet, head bobbing slightly as he shook his hair out of his eyes even though the goggles situated on his forehead stuck most of it in place.

"Ugh, yea. The grounder.." He seemed a bit uneasy and Bellamy couldn't help but huff in impatience. "Spit it out, what is it?" He tightened his crossed arms and shifted himself to stand a bit taller.

"Has she spoken yet?" Jasper scratched at the back of his neck as he shifted his gaze across the ground, clearing his throat as if to prepare what came next.

"No, so far she has refused to tell us anything. Why?"

"She spoke to me. In English. When-" Bellamy cut him off there as his arms fell to his sides and he leaned forward, "Why didn't you tell me this before? We weren't even sure they spoke the same language up until now."

"I didn't think about it. Didn't seem as important as getting her tied up. But, ugh, yea." Jasper stuffed his hands into his pockets, bobbed his head slightly, and shuffled off to the side to make way for the irritated leader. Bellamy wasn't as angry as Jasper probably suspected, or at least not towards the boy. He was more troubled by the fact that he hadn't originally tempted her tongue. Question was, had she given in while one of the others had been on guard?

Clarke

The ladder leading up to her room creaked and groaned as the head of the leader bobbed up through the trapdoor. Clarke hadn't been fond of his company the day prior, but she now lurched forward at his sight. _Thank god._ She twitched her footing as she put her weight back on her feet and let her hands curl around the chains that held her up with her arms out wide. Chains now linked around her ankles and wrists in a bond that kept her in a position similar to that of a jumping jack in progress. She bit down slightly on her lower lip as a sting pulsed through her arms as the blood began to well around the semi-open scratches lining her flesh. The current guard, a tall man with greasy hair that flopped unevenly on his skull who had established himself as going by the name Murphy, had made quick work at 'interrogating' her earlier. He had woken her a few hours after the leader had left with a splash of cold water, and the stiff burn of a belt against her chest. She had been jerked and jostled as he reworked her chains and strung her up, but the clipping bite of the chains on her wrists had proven to be of enjoyment after she endured a few hours with the pissed off guard. Her arms, chest, and back had been licked by a seatbelt, leaving her shirt in tears; her arms had been cut with shallow swipes; and her lips had bled from biting down so hard against the pain. She had refused to speak, only every allowing herself to groan when the man delivered a sour swing.

But now she watched with partially opened eyes as the leader took one look her way and lashed around to deliver the guard a fist to the chin. Her lips twitched slightly at the corner as she watched Murphy fall backward in shock before he was dismissed. Her eyelids drooped as she let herself hang a little from the chains of her arms. She wanted to appear strong and able-bodied, but she was far too exhausted to put too much weight on her toes any longer. Her eyes slipped open as she heard him move slowly towards her in an arc.

"I'm sorry about him." The boy spoke quietly, his arm curled over his shoulder as he scratched at the back of his neck in what appeared to be a nervous gesture. Clarke watched as his lips twitched around words too quiet for her to hear, and her eyes slipped closed again as he raised his voice.

"What he did wasn't authorized. He'll be punished later, but for now he won't be allowed back into your cell without my presence." The words were meant to be reassuring but she wasn't about to loosen up while she still remained a prisoner.

"Hey? You listening?" Clarke jerked her head up slightly as the voice rose around her. She had fallen asleep. A soft humph rose at the back of her throat but by the time it crossed her lips it had transformed into a light groan. The boy seemed to take this as a yes and proceeded to speak as he stood at her right shoulder, a few paces away, "Jasper, the boy who found you, told me that you spoke to him. You might as well cut the act now before another guard tries to interrogate you themselves." There was a brief pause, "What's your name?"

The silence must've been unbearable because it wasn't long before the man continued, "We have one of your people. Spotted out in the forest, same as you. All you have to do is cooperate and we'll let you both be on your way." His voice was even and calm, but at the mention of her people he had shifted his gaze slightly. A lie. But something told her it wasn't all a lie. It was common for her to return to camp every few days, and her shared cave every night, so it couldn't of been long before her roommates noticed her absence. Shit. Despite this she rolled her eyes and rose more firmly on her feet, eyebrow quirking up as if to ask for proof.

"Oh, so you do understand me?" It wasn't a question, more of a proud claim that he had succeeded in making her reveal her intelligence. She let out a low growl, eyes fixated on his before slipping closed. The sound of heavy footsteps retreating faded as she felt her body weigh down on the chains.

 

The slam of the hatch against the railing shocked her awake, jolting her against the chains. A mop of curly brown hair bobbed up through the opening and was slowly followed by the matted hair of a new face. No, not a new face. It was Riko. He was of similar age to her, merely two years older at twenty. She jerked slightly against the chains at her wrists as she watched his bloody face rise and his body crumble to the ground. Horror rippled across her face as her mouth drooped open, but it soon faded as she spotted the source. The blood was smeared on his face, but it was spewing from his nose, ears, and mouth. Clarke had to keep herself steady as she realized just what had fallen on the man. Her attention shifted to the rest of his body as she spotted the two bullet holes situated at his hip and shoulder. _Now, now you can mourn._

Clarke's legs gave out from beneath her as she stared at the blood pooling on his clothes. She felt the chains at her arms fall and she scrambled forward, ignoring the fact that her legs were still locked into place. Once they were unhooked from the floor she dragged them along as she crossed the floor to Riko. Her hands pressed into his cheeks as she forced his wobbly gaze to settle on her own. She smiled softly as she helped him lay down. "Yu gonplei ste odon." _Your fight is over._ Her fingers lowered to his neck, a tremble running through her finger tips.

"I'm sorry, Princess." His voice was quiet, but Clarke didn't miss the jolt of movement at her shoulder that meant the men had heard. She could hear the men scoffing the pet name behind her, their voices partially confused as they uttered the term. Riko met his lazy gaze to her own and a soft smile shivered over his lips.

"Jus drein jus daun." He paused as his smile faded and thinned out, "Make them pay, Princess." Her eyes shifted down to Riko with a soft smile as she latched her hands around his neck, jerking his skull to the side with a loud crack. By the time the guards had figured what she was doing he had already gone limp, his last breath taken and his eyelids flitted shut.

"The fuck? She killed him! And what did he mean by making us pay? And Princess?" A boy with a darker complexion approached from her left shoulder, jerking her backward by the shoulder. His eyes were wide and startled, a curse twisting on his tongue as he rambled, "I say we kill her now." His fingers curled into the shirt and pricked the skin below. Clarke's head had been lowered to get closer to Riko, but the pressure sent her spiraling backwards as she lashed around in a circle. Her hands wrapped around the man's throat and jerked him out in front so that his back was to her. His legs buckled out from beneath him and a choking sound gurgled up before her hands loosened to give him air.

The other guards had frozen in place, mouths slightly parted as they watched in awe as she pressed further into his throat. "Daun ste pleni! Pleni!" _That is enough! Enough!_ She was fighting back the urge to speak in their tongue. It would be necessary to break the language barrier, but she didn't want them to continue prodding her for information that she wasn't willing to give out. Her eyes grazed over their stiffened muscles as she shifted her weight and unlatched her arms from around the boy's throat. The boy fell forward gasping, and as he did so Clarke aimed a kick to the back of his knees to force him forward and on top of Riko. If he had to die delivering the blood sickness then he would inflict as many casualties as possible.

The boy sputtered as he ripped away from the corpse, disgusting by the blood that had smeared onto his clothes and arms. Clarke's eyes had filled up with tears but not one was shed even as the boy kicked at the body. Her lips quivered before crinkling at the corner as a smile overtook her face. She wouldn't break in the face of her enemy, and now that she knew the group had made contact with the body she could make peace with her friend's death for he had brought her a chance at freedom.

The leader moved from his position at the shoulder of the group, eyes critical as he approached her from an angle. She held her hands out to him, urging him to wrap the chains back on. Riko's work had been done and she'd make do of the advantage when it came, but for now she knew better than to fight back the confinement. The chains locked tight to her wrists and she withdrew from the boy, the smile still lapping at her lips as she stared at the limp body of her friend. _Thank you._ She laid her head back against the cool metal of the dropship wall and listened as the men dragged the boys body towards the hatch and kicked it down to the lower level. A shutter rippled down her spine as she imagined his flesh colliding with the steel at the bottom. Her eyes pinched shut as she leaned into the cold wall, willing herself to sleep. It will all be over in due time.

Bellamy

The moon had already crested the sky before the first person entered the medical tent with a bloody nose, but it wasn't until the third patient came in with the blood seeping from their eyes that the caregivers on duty, Harper and Fox, approached Bellamy. The three delinquents had been among the hunting party and in the middle of the report two more dropped to their knees by the fire, blood dripping from their ears and eyes. Fear sliced into him as he watched the two girls lead the boys back to the tent.

"Harper, don't touch anyone else. I'll tell Monty to escort any new patients in when it comes to it. As for-" A sharp scream pierced the air and he split away from the tent's side. His legs were moving before he had even registered that he might be running straight into an enemy, whether that be more sickness or maybe the grounder had escaped. He pushed past the curtain, eyes sweeping over the dark corners before falling on a limp body laid out in front of a young girl.

"Charlotte, what happened?" He bent down and pressed his fingers to the boy's throat feeling for a pulse. There was none. "Charlotte go back to your tent." The girl was quick to flee, and Bellamy was soon alone with the corpse. His hand swept through his curls, jerking slightly as a voice jumped from above him.

"What? What is this? Did you do this?!" Bellamy climbed swiftly up the ladder and pushed the hatch the rest of the way open, smacking it into the bars as he hiked himself over the edge. His eyes settled on Miller who was hugging the wall with trembling legs, blood smeared against the wall near where his face was rubbed into the metal.

"The fuck did you do to him? What is this?" He swayed between casting an accusing glare towards the grounder and a confused look towards his buddy. Once Miller had crumpled down in the corner, heaving blood, his attention set fully on the girl. A wide smirk had dimpled her cheeks and he felt a moisture dapple his eyes. His hand rose slowly and his fingers dabbed the moisture, drawing away to reveal a slick trail of blood. "What did you do to us?"

Bellamy watched as the girl pushed herself up to her feet, and went to the end of her lead. She stood only a yard off from him now that she had been reacquainted with the old bondage of only chains being linked around her wrists. His eyes dropped to hers as she smiled up at him, her blue eyes crisp but floating with unshed tears.

"Jus dein jus daun." The words slurred over her lips. "Blood will have blood. You killed my friend. Now you will pay."


	3. I can't lose her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke continues to face the troubles of being a hostage as tension rises. I suck at summaries..

Clarke

Clarke woke with a start, head throbbing and body hunched against the furthest wall from the ladder. Her hand rose to press into her temple, a terse groan splitting the silence around her as she bit back the pain. Her temple ached and the back of her head had a patch of hair where the blood had dried. _What happened?_ She slowly pushed herself forward and situated herself on her hands and knees. A tremble coursed through her still aching limbs, but she stumbled upward after a few brief pauses made to clear her dizzy vision. Her eyes bumped along the corners of the room before settling on a dark stain only two paces to her left. The pain was sharp, and it hit her instantly. A sobbing scream scraped out of her throat as she crawled to the patch, jerking hard against the chains on her arms as she tried to get to the patch. The scream lowered into a groan before she collapsed onto the floor, body heaving softly as she pulled at the chains. Sobs wracked her body as she trembled on the floor. Upholding her image no longer mattered. Right now it was her time to mourn.

Images spread out behind her pinched eyelids: Riko teaching her to use a bow; Riko being there for her when her parents had gone missing. In every image he was there with his taunt arm looped over her shoulders or his finger to his lips before he pointed out a deer. They had spent the entirety of their lives together, and they had intended to continue their streak. But now he was gone and she laid crumpled over the bloody stain on the cool, metal flooring wishing it had all been a nightmare. _Count your lucky stars, they may be your last. He was right, she had used up all her wishes._ A fresh cry shook her forward as she recalled the words of the leader when he had taken her. She didn't understand it but the anger wouldn't come. She tried to form a growl, tried to purse her lips but they kept wobbling. She would've done the same if she found a hostile in her territory. _No, don't think like that! He is the enemy. He got Riko killed! No. I got Riko killed._ Clarke shook her head and lowered herself further onto the floor, her cries muffled by the hair that swept across her face. _Pull it together, Clarke! You're a warrior, not a coward._

A shudder crept down her spine as a strong hand dropped onto her shoulder. The pounding of her heart and the ache of loss that pushed her tear ducts into overdrive had overpowered her other senses. She hadn't heard him enter even when the hatch door had clinked against the ladder. She stiffened and shrunk from his grip. Earlier she might've whipped around and tried to set him up into a chokehold, but now she could hardly feel her fingertips.

"I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was soft, but she could hear the clip at the end of his words. A grunt passed her lips as she shied further from his hand. "I just want the cure. Please. Your friend wasn't supposed to die. One of the younger kids had gotten carried away." He seemed a bit breathless and Clarke turned to look his way. He was pale, a sheen of sweat glossed his skin and blood trickled steadily from his nose and curled off his lips. Her eyes lowered as she shuffled away from him, yanking again on the chains at her wrists as she tried to get further from the boy.

A gasp sounded from behind her and she felt the hands clamp down over hers as the boy came closer. Her lips thinned out as she jerked away causing the open cuts on her wrist to release a steadier flow of blood. A whimper built up behind her lips, but she bit it back and caused a new pain to set itself in front as the taste of iron swirled around her mouth. _Shit, I need to stop hurting myself._

The pressure of his hands disappeared and she felt her muscles relax. But the feeling was short-lived because the boy was back at her side within moments and this time he was wielding a damp towel and a short coil of tan fabric and gauze. She remained silent as he released the cuffs from around her wrists and pressed the cool cloth to her tattered skin. He spoke softly as he worked at cleaning up the wound, "My name's Bellamy. I don't know if any of them mentioned that earlier." He broke off as he used some alcohol nearby to disinfect it. She held back a hiss as the skin prickled and burned. His eyebrow quirked up, "Hmm, the only person I've ever known to keep from reacting to that is O." He paused briefly and at the stiff posture he carried she knew he had said something he regretted.

"Who is O?" She could tell she was treading on thin ice, but she wasn't up for talking about herself or sitting in silence. She hated to admit it to herself but she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts.

"She's my sister." His voice had dropped slightly and his body was still rigid. He pressed the cloth to her skin a little too hard and she sent a glare his way. "Sorry." He finished wrapping it before placing the cuffs back over the covered wounds. His nose had started to drip more than it had before and she found her eyes creeping up to his face, hesitating as she picked up the cloth and raised a hand towards his chin. His body had gone stiff and at this point she felt obliged to finish the action, so she swept a clean corner of the cloth across his upper lip. She felt heat creep into her face as she lowered the cloth and quirked the corner of her lip up in an awkward attempt at a small smile.

Clarke lowered her eyes and twitched slightly when he cleared out his throat, "Anyways, I was hoping you could help me out." She felt her blood chill as she shifted and moved slowly back towards her corner, still on her hands and knees. She set her back against the wall and turned to look back at him, eyebrows raising in question. She wasn't about to hand over the fact that there was no cure and that it would wear off. She didn't doubt that it'd push him over the edge and worry him sick, but then again blood still crept from the corners of his eyes and out of his nose so how much worse could he get?

"My name-" She paused as she ran her finger over the edge of the cuff, "is Clarke." She kept her eyes down as she continued, "And that is all I will say." She knew better than to reveal much more and mention which clan she was in or her status among it. Riko had given away her nickname of Princess, but that didn't exactly mean that they'd put two and two together and realize that she was fifth in line for the spot as commander. The current commander was Anya, her second was Tris, and the ones to follow were Lexa, Indra, and finally herself. If any of them were to have a daughter they'd follow behind her and if any of their brothers were to wed and have a daughter they'd step up into line as well.

"Clarke." Her head jolted up as she heard Bellamy play with the name, repeating it until it slid off his tongue with confidence. "So Clarke, about what the other grounder said. You're a princess?" She stiffened abruptly and cursed herself for giving it away so quickly. She loosened her muscles and shrugged softly before muttering, "His name was Riko. Not grounder."

"Riko, got it." He said it a bit tersely but recovered quickly, "I'm sorry for your loss." His hand rubbed against his forehead before moving down to press against his lips as he coughed up some blood into his hand. She heard a groan ruffle the air and she decided to speak before he tried to get a cure out of her, "I will be fine. Love is weakness; I was foolish to allow myself to do that in the first place." She bit her tongue hard after she spoke. She had tried to live under the statement, but it was growingly difficult to put up walls like a true commander-to-be.

"That sounds lonely. I cou-" Bellamy broke off abruptly as the sound of feet stamping up the ladder echoed in the room before the hatch's door slammed back open. The man who Clarke had learned to be called Miller stood over both of them before Bellamy could even get off the floor. His eyes were narrowed and seemed a bit suspicious, but they quickly widened with worry as he turned to face Bellamy.

"How is everyone holding up?" Bellamy stood up and swayed slightly before standing firm in front of Miller. His jaw had shifted and despite the weak feeling in his knees he stood firm. It seemed they both agreed that weakness was death, but unlike Clarke he was fixated on appearing fully capable and not the belief that caring would get in his way.

"Two dead." Miller was shifting on his feet and his eyes switched between the few objects placed throughout the room, always staying away from Bellamy's eyes. "And ugh, Bellamy-" He paused as he forced himself to meet the taller man's gaze, "Octavia is sick now, too."

Clarke shifted her gaze over towards Bellamy, eyes widening slightly as she watched his muscles tense and his eyes harden. His hand was on his hip and his fingers curled around the hilt of a long knife. "Bellamy? What are you-" She was cut off by her own screams as the knife dug into her shoulder. The scream drew out as the boy dragged the knife out of her flesh, and it was quickly replaced by a growl as she flattened her lips. The knife swung up and tilted against her throat. Clarke felt her breathing shake as she tried to remain steady, her chin lifting as she met his soggy, hurt eyes with her glare. "And I thought we were going to be friends." The words were terse and bitter.

A smirk curled her lips a second before his hand rose and the knife's hilt smashed into her skull. As her eyelids drooped, she spotted the knife fall from his fingers. She saw the blood-fused tears glide down his cheeks and his head fall into his hands. When everything was dark, she heard a faint whisper trickle into her ear, "I'm so sorry, Clarke. I can't lose her. I can't lose yo-" And with that she sunk into unconsciousness, soon to forget that some of his words had been left unheard of.


	4. I Am Immune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the delinquents' health continues to degrade beneath the sickness, Bellamy must take matters into his own hands to seize the cure from their prisoner.

Bellamy

A smirk had curled over her lips a second before he had hit the handle of his knife against her skull, but her sudden twist from innocent to cruel didn't soften the fact that he had just lost control of himself. He watched solemnly as her eyelids drooped, fluttering ever so slightly before the movement in her face subsided and the only thing left to twitch was her lips as she breathed. The knife had slipped through his fingers, and it now sat a foot away from him as his head fell into his hands. Blood slid down his cheeks and painted his fingers as his eyes bled and his nose started to gush.

"I'm so sorry, Clarke." He pushed his hands further up his head and grabbed a hold of the hair at the back of his head and yanked slightly as he tried to gain control. "I can't lose her." His voice wobbled as he pulled his fingers out of his hair and laid his palms flat on his face, finger nails tipped into the skin at his forehead. His fingers slid further down his face and a gap formed between them for him to look at the girl crumpled in front of him. "I can't lose you."

Clarke

Clarke woke with a start, eyes pinching shut immediately as she stared into the dark bottom of a bucket. A bucket of water. She sputtered as a wave of water parted her lips and clung to her throat. _What's happening?_ A scream pressed against the water in her throat as she tried to force it out, but with each scream's end came a new rush of foul tasting water. Her back arched as she tried to pull herself free of the bucket, but a pair of rough hands were forcing her down by the neck.

Bubbles curled from her lips as she jerked viciously back and forth, ramming her ear into the side of the tin bucket as she screamed and took in more water. Her vision started to waver as her movements weakened and her screams shortened into gasps that took in one too many gulps of water. But then the new waves stopped crashing in and her hair was glued to the side of her face, the loud trickle of water sounding beneath her as she felt her stomach churn and her nose burn.

"Help her out! This isn't supposed to kill her!" The frustrated scream of a man knocked against her ears as her back arched and a wave of water rushed up her throat. She knew it had been Bellamy that spoke before even opening her eyes. She sputtered for a moment before puking up the water, lips gaping as she forced herself to heave. She was on her hands and knees, the bucket to her left, and a shiver was making its way through her limbs as her lips gaped in an attempt to take in every breath of oxygen around her. _How could he of done this to me? No. He didn't. It was one of his lackeys._ Her eyes burned as she blinked rapidly to clear her vision, meeting Bellamy's pained eyes after the burn became a background pain. _Oh forget it. He allowed this. What difference does it make if he hadn't been the one to do it?_

Clarke lowered her head as she continued to cough, a trail of water slipping from the corner of her mouth as she forced the rest of it out of her system. Luckily she hadn't eaten since the morning of her capture so there wasn't any other bile that came up with it. Her stomach pinched as the water disappeared and the empty feeling made itself present once more. _Oh great, not only will I be stuck here but soon they'll realize I haven't eaten and use that against me too._

"What's the cure?" A gruff grumble tickled her ringing ears as the man that held a hand to her neck leaned in closer, his shirt brushing against her back. The room went silent once more except for the harsh breathing that she soon realized was her own. _God, Clarke get it together. Breathe in. Breathe out._ She stabled her breathing before pressing her weight into her palms, pushing herself up and nearly knocking the man out when the back of her head hit the man's face. A short laugh choked its way out. Her hand rose shakily to rub at the back of her head and that was when she realized the chains weren't locked into place anymore. Instead they were at her ankles, so even if she could get in a few swings she wouldn't be able to escape the metal coffin. _Just great._

Her eyes switched between the two men in the room as she thought over her words, and whether or not she would even respond to their question. Apparently not answering wasn't acceptable because the men shared a nod and the pressure on her neck increased before the sound of tin scraping against the floor ensued. She barely had enough time to take in a large breath before her head was under the water once more. This round, she refused to struggle as she simply kept her mouth shut and her eyelids pinched as she waited out the round. It'd be over soon, and then she could see what else they had planned.

Bellamy

Bellamy felt sick by the end of the drowning sessions, which had totaled at five rounds, although he knew it should've stopped after she had come up the second time with a hard look and a lack of water in her lungs. It had been strange but the look she had given him each time around had seemed to of been a challenge to push harder, as if she was a disappointed trainer asking for him to give it all he had. _No, that's crazy, why would she do that?_

Clarke

It had taken some time before the boys gave in to her silence and disappeared behind the hatch, but it couldn't of come soon enough. Her skin was chilled and her lips a shade of blue, jitters had long since set in. Clarke shifted against the wall and curled up in a tight ball, her arms wrapped around her knees, as she fought to keep the cold away. _A cold front must've come in a while ago. Winter wasn't far off._ Her eyes slipped closed and she stayed curled up for a few minutes before lowering herself to lay on the floor. It wasn't the most comfortable sleeping position, but it was better than leaning against a cold wall.

It hadn't even been an hour since she'd tried to fall asleep and she was still awake. Still awake when the hatch clinked open and the sound of heavy footsteps made its way towards her. She remained still as the figure lowered a thin blanket over her shoulders, hands moving to tuck it in around her until they spotted the slight shudder that had run down her spine. She heard him clear his throat and step back. He was probably rubbing the back of his neck or running a hand through his hair. He always did that when he was stuck in an awkward position. She cleared her own throat, "You didn't wake me.. If that is what you're worried about." She moved to sit up, felt the ache in her limbs and immediately lowered herself back down with a grunt.

"Here." She felt his hand touch her back, the other coming to rest on her abdomen as he helped her sit up. "I'm sorry." His voice was low, and tentative. "I just-" He broke off as his hands left her body and settled on his thighs. He had sat down beside her, probably more to the fact he was still weak with the blood sickness and not just his need to be at the same level with his conversation partners. "We've lost nine people so far. So far." He repeated the last part below his breath, but she heard it. Her eyes ran over his face as he seemed to shift between fright, disbelief, and then finished it off with a stern look of defiance. "I want the cure."

Clarke settled further back into the wall as she swept her eyes over his face, fixated on his ears, eyes, nose and then lastly his lips. His face was pale, blood crusted his nose and his ears, and streaks of dried blood trailed from his shadowed eyes. He wasn't in the best shape, but she could tell he was nearing the end of the sickness. _Good._ Shock swept over her as the thought bounced free and she looked away quickly to avoid letting him see the relief that had made its way into her eyes.

"Fine. You asked for it." Clarke felt his fingers touch her chin and she moved slightly to face him, confusion paving her blue eyes as she found herself inches from his face. Her breathing hitched as she looked down at his lips, and then back to his eyes. His eyes glanced down towards her own lips, back up, and then down once more as the meager space disappeared between them and his lips settled on hers. Her eyes slipped closed and she felt her body move closer towards him as he deepened the kiss. She couldn't help herself as she parted her lips and leaned further into him. She felt his hand brush against her lower back and she drew in a breath and felt the vibration of his laugh against her lips. That was when her eyelids flicked open and she drew back with a jolt, face flushing as she stared up at him. _Why? Clarke, why did you do that?_ She lowered her gaze, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. She shouldn't of enjoyed it.

Bellamy cleared his throat and gave a short, nervous laugh, "Ugh. I-" It was obvious that he hadn't expected to enjoy it either, but after clearing his throat again and drawing his hand away from where it had still been on her back his face shifted into a more stern look. "Now you have to tell me the cure."

Clarke felt her face drain of color as she shifted her gaze away from him. She felt her stomach drop further as his hand dropped onto her thigh, "I am immune." The hand was gone and she felt the lack of heat immediately. Her gaze remained on her feet as she wrung out her hands. "I'm sorry." The words barely escaped her as she felt a soft tremble enter her lips. She bit down on her lower lip to hide it.

A minute was sat in silence before his hand found itself placed on her cheek before being lowered to the side of her throat. _This is it. He is going to kill me._ His left hand rose as well and soon both of his hands rested on her throat, his face a few inches away as he forced her to meet his eyes with hers. She could see the look of defeat that burned in his eyes and slacked his jaw. "I'm sorry." She could barely even breathe the words. It was too painful. But why?

"There is no cure. Is there?" His voice was pained, a shredded fraction of what it normally was. Clarke lowered her eyes and he must've taken that as an answer because his forehead pressed lightly into hers as his hands trembled on her throat. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes as an ache set into her bones. "I'm so sorry." She felt her own breath get blown back towards her as he moved in closer, his forehead moving away from hers as he planted a desperate kiss to her lips. He broke away after a few seconds and they stayed there, their lips hovering close to each other as they breathed in each other's breaths. "I'm so sorry."

"I know, Princess." His breath brushed across her cheek and even though a wave of sadness had clenched her stomach at the sound of her pet name, she couldn't help but to smile against his lips. She felt his hand pat down her hair as he shifted at her side, his other hand pulling her towards him as they shifted against the wall. She leaned into him slightly before his arm wrapped back around her and welcomed her closer. Her eyes slipped closed as she lowered her cheek to his chest and took in a shaky breath. She was cuddling with the enemy. _Weird turn this day took._

His hand moved behind her back to bring the thin blanket back over her as sleep lowered itself on both of them. Clarke listened to his heart as it lub dubbed. It was soothing, and soon she couldn't keep her eyes open. She felt sleep set in, but not before she felt his lips touch her forehead in a soft kiss. A smile curled over her lips before sleep finally took her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it confuses any of you, Bellamy had to continue letting another delinquent torture Clarke to both get a cure and to uphold his leader status. Being a leader and falling for the enemy isn't something you'd expect others to understand. Sorry for the swift changes in behavior.


	5. Dirty Face of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy must put his fate in the hands of an enemy; Meanwhile, Clarke must stand strong against the forces matched against her fight for survival. Their fight for survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on Tumblr, and I am taking REQUESTS! I'll post the requests on the account and on here! [My account is here.](http://bellarkerescuedme.tumblr.com/)

Bellamy

Despite the cool of the air outside the drop ship walls, a wave of feverish air sliced through the small crack in the hatch door once in a while. The majority of the delinquents still slept in the lower level as they continued to battle the hemorrhagic fever. A fever had accompanied the bloody episodes, and now with the bunch having to cram into the drop ship it had created a more heated atmosphere. It was strange, but it seemed the sickness may just temporarily keep the kids a bit warmer. Unfortunately for Bellamy and Clarke this meant having to separate in the middle of the night when the wave of heat rising to their level became uncomfortable. That is why Bellamy now laid out on his side, jaw slack as a soft snore drew past his lips.

Blood trailed past the edge of his lips and slid down his throat before losing volume around his collar bone. His body twitched as he turned over onto his back, his hand coming down to rest on Clarke's abdomen. A soft grunt escaped the girl beside him before she rolled closer to his touch, her own arm draping over his chest as she nuzzled into his heat. It was a few minutes before the blood started to overwhelm him. Before it drew back down into his throat and he sputtered, a soft spray of crimson springing from his lips and scattering across Clarke's cheek. The girl shifted below him as his choking quieted down into a low gurgle, his body too weak to wake him enough so he could turn onto his side.

Clarke

Clarke shifted in her sleep, nose wrinkling as she gave a grunt and peeked her eyes open to see his fingers glide down her belly before curling up in her shirt. A smile peeked at the edge of her lips as she nuzzled in closer to him, ignoring the burn of his skin as she settled her head into the crook of his neck, her lips hovering over his collar bone while her hand laid out on his chest. She was soon asleep once more, the lub dub of his heart soothing her to sleep.

It was a few minutes before she felt consciousness snatch at her again, and once again it was because Bellamy was stirring underneath her. She gave a sour groan as she shifted beside him. _Can this boy ever relax?_ A few seconds passed before the scent of iron reached her nose and she felt something moist on the curve of his collar bone beneath her fingertips. Her eyes whipped open as she jerked away from him. Blood. A thin trail of blood had run from his lips, but that wasn't what scared her. It was the fact that his lips were quivering and blood was bubbling up behind bared teeth.

A scream rang in her ears and it took her a moment to realize it had been from her own lips. She clenched her mouth shut, teeth digging into her tongue as she fought back the next round. Tears clouded her vision as she stumbled forward, fingers shaking as she clawed at his shoulder. She pulled him toward her, rocking him onto his side. Blood pooled around her knees as his body curled forward and the blood trapped behind his lips went with the force of gravity. Tears dripped down her cheeks, mixing with the blood he'd sputtered onto her earlier, and she lowered herself to him. Her hands slid down his temples and rested on his cheeks, fingers pinching in softly as she tried to catch his gaze.

"Bell- Bellamy!" His name hitched in her throat as she leaned down to meet her forehead to his. His eyes must've just come into focus because when she pulled back he was reaching a hand out to her, tears clouding his own eyes as he gurgled her name, "Clurgik." A soft laugh fought its way out as she leaned forward again, ignoring the blood that smeared against her cheek as she took him into her arms. "It's okay. You were choking. It's okay now."

The squeak of a sneaker turned both their heads, and their gazes met that of four faces. Miller stood closest to them, his arm paused out in front of him with a gun held tight. Behind him was a boy Clarke recognized from her scouting, Sterling. Murphy had just finished climbing up the ladder and managed to look for dumbfounded and disgusted in the same instance. Lastly a girl was climbing on the stairs, her head having just peeked over the ledge before fear glued her in place. Clarke hadn't caught her name during her scouting experience, but despite the sickly paleness dimming her tan and her hair not being curly like her brothers she knew it was O. _I wonder if that is her full name?_

"What the fuck is this?" It was Murphy who had broken the silence, but it was Octavia that had jolted into motion. The girl crashed the rest of the way up the stairs, banging her knees on the steps, and running over to the pair on the ground. She shoved Clarke back and crawled into the small space formed between the two so that she could hover over her brother.

"What did you do to him?" Octavia's voice was desperate and Clarke felt her stomach clench as she looked down. It hadn't been her fault, but she couldn't help but take the blame. She should've checked on him when she initially woke. A tear glued her eyelashes together and she backed further away from the siblings.

"She saved me, O. I was choking on my own blood." And with those words, Clarke found herself with five sets of eyes on her as she straightened her back and lifted her gaze, feigning confidence until she felt the real deal trickle into her features. Her jaw shifted, the mist in her eyes cleared, and her shoulders rolled back as she let herself hold herself proudly. She had shown too much weakness to this bunch. It was high time she took back her title as Princess and rubbed the tears out of her eyes.

"The sickness isn't meant to kill. It's just a happy coincidence." Clarke felt her throat dry and she coughed slightly, "I mean, that's what we say." She lowered her gaze for a moment before clearing her throat and lifting her chin back up. She shifted her gaze between Miller and Murphy, knowing that they'd be the difficult ones to convince of her 'loyalty' no matter how fresh it was, "It is spread to our enemies to weaken the battle field. However, this one wasn't sent in preparation for battle. At least it couldn't of since they normally attack the next morning." She paused as she looked back towards Bellamy, the tension in her shoulders floating away as she carried on, "It was delivered soon after my capture, so it was most likely a plan set into action by the scouts to help me escape." Her voice lowered as a sudden stab of guilt nipped at her, "Riko had to of fought for it."

"And how do we know this bitch isn't just lying to us?" Clarke's head jolted up, fire entering her eyes as she clamped her mouth shut. Murphy was just as much of an asshole as he had been when she originally trailed him those first days before scouting was approved. It took an additional drop ship to fall from the sky and a whole village to burn to the ground before the scouting group was officially made. _Lousy choice, if you ask me. Scouts should've been sent out the day we speared that kid at the river._ Clarke forced her thoughts into silence as she raised her voice over the argument developing between Murphy and Bellamy.

"They aren't foolish. They wouldn't start a war over my capture when they have no proof that I've been harmed. As for if I'm telling the truth-" Her words were coated in venom as she rounded on Murphy, her hair being tossed once over her shoulder as she stalked towards the man. Her voice lowered into a hiss as she came within a foot of the greasy-haired man, "Keep them on their sides so that they don't choke. Keep them hydrated. They'll be up and kicking your ass within a few hours." Her voice lifted as she backed up from him, "They'll be weak for another day or so, but most will be up and working within a few hours."

The boys seemed uncertain, but to her surprise Murphy had stepped forward with his hand out to her. Clarke glanced down at it, biting down on her lower lip as she extended her own hand out. _A truce? Am I supposed to promise that I'm not lying? What-._ His hand clutched onto hers and yanked her forward to slam into his chest. Fear and anger stung her immediately as she jerked herself backward, fingers curling in so she could claw at the hand still clutching hers. The others had all frozen around them, but she wasn't surprised by that. This was her fight, not theirs.

"Let. Go." Her eyes narrowed in on the boy's face as she took her turn in stepping forward to close off the space between them. She took it one step further and found herself a few inches from his face. "Touch me one more time and you will no longer have a hand." And with that she jerked both of their hands up and pressed them to the left side of her face, her arm at an angle. Meanwhile, Clarke stretched her left arm out straight and pushed his head back, his chin resting in the palm of her hand as she pushed his head back at a painful angle. "Care to beg for mercy?"

A grunt puffed out of the boy, but it didn't feel like enough. During her scouting experiences, she had seen him degrade and abuse the other teens. No, she would not allow him to get away with degrading her so easily. She twisted her hand and grasped his nose, holding it firmly as she twitched it slightly to send a bolt of pain up his sinus. A small cry escaped him and she couldn't help but smirk as she twisted her grip, "Shof op." _Be quiet._ "Daun or wan op." _Down or die._ Clarke lowered her eyes to the ground before blinking back up at him, pulling him slowly by the nose to show that she had asked for him to retreat to the floor.

"Won." _One._ He held her gaze. "Tu." _Two._ He scowled at the floor. "Thri." _Three._ Clarke tightened her grip on his nose and he began to lower to the ground. By the time he had reached the floor his shoulders were sunk in defeat and his eyes were burning with the desire to snatch her by the hair and crack her skull against the floor. A snicker bubbled up her throat as she leaned down and pressed her face to his, not hesitating to pinch down harder on his nose as she came closer. "Try it again, and I will choose the latter." She backed up and released her grip on his nose with a swat on her hand. It wouldn't break it, but the jolt of pain it had created had been enough to make him cry out. "And I doubt you want to die at my hand."

Clarke backed up another pace and brushed off her pants, the man still in her peripheral, "Although some would see it as an honor." Tension immediately settled into her shoulders as she realized what she had just said. It could be dismissed as being cocky and full of it, but after Riko had spilled her petname she wouldn't doubt they'd be suspicious. It was true that it was an honor to die in a fight with her. Despite appearing to of never taken part in battle seeing as she had not taken part in the tradition of tallying her kills on her back with a series of red scratches, she was well known in her village for having a great deal of kills on the battlefield.

The others had turned to look at her in question, but she ignored them now as she lifted her chin up and turned to face the two siblings crouched nearby. "Get cleaned up. The rest of the group would of reported my disappearance and Riko's death to the commander by now. You need to prepare to meet with her. If you wish to make peace, it is now."

"How will it be set up? We can't let you leave here." It was a low blow sent from Octavia seeing as she had just saved her brother and was now trying to forge a friendship between their groups, but she took it in stride as she stepped closer. "There are other scouts positioned near by. All I need to do is step outside of these walls and I can get the message along." She shifted her gaze between the two, "The sun has yet to rise, so Lincoln will be on watch. O-" She bit her lip after saying the letter; she had yet to learn her full name. "O, you should be the one to approach him. You will lead the meeting and so it only makes sense that you set it up with him."

A shock seemed to prick at the skin of the people around her, but she continued through the muttering protest Bellamy had just started to get out. "We do not see men as leaders. They may sit in line for power if the bloodline demands, but your sister is female and so she overpowers you. Regardless, you would be considered her second in command so you may accompany her." A shiver ran down Clarke's spine as she shifted her weight over to her other foot. A sigh cracked past her lips as she ran her hands through her hair, shaking it back over her shoulder as she adjusted the braids that had been tossed around.

"Anything else?" It was Bellamy that spoke this time. He had risen alongside Octavia and he now shuffled towards the door with his hand on her shoulder. Sterling had been dismissed the moment she had given advise about the sickness, and Miller had pushed Murphy ahead of him down the ladder once it became obvious that the leaders were about to head down as well. Clarke shifted uneasily as she moved after them, unsure of whether or not they'd slam the hatch door in her face when it came to be her turn. She allowed the uneasy feeling to collapse away as she settled a hand on Bellamy's arm.

"I don't expect you to allow me to speak directly to Lincoln, so-" She paused as she released his arm and shifted her gaze between him and Octavia. "So, I need you to tell him that I'm in good health. And-" She was gnawing on her lower lip now as she fought to choose the correct words. How could she explain to him something that he'd immediately hate her for? "He will not be happy about my imprisonment or Riko's death. He will demand my release. I doubt you will do that, so tell him I said this:-" She took a shaky breath, cleared her throat, then continued, "The prince may of died, but the dirty face of gold is still running strong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confusing end? Well it is implied that Riko was to be wed to Clarke once they came of age, so that is why he is called the prince. The dirty face of gold is herself (taken from the song We Come Running by Youngblood Hawke from episode one) and she is still thriving. It is her backwards way of passing Lincoln a message by hinting to her status in the clan to Bellamy. Hope that clarifies it!  
> Also I am on tumblr, and I will be doing REQUESTS! My account is [here.](http://bellarkerescuedme.tumblr.com/)


	6. I Seek Safe Passage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke must gain the trust of The 100 in order to gain peace, and get the delinquents in communication with her people before it is too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking for a Beta.

Bellamy

Bellamy ran his eyes over Clarke, taking in each twitch in her face as he fought to read her blank expression. It was as if she'd shielded herself away from them within the same moment she spoke the deceased grounder's name. A frown drew along his own lips as a crease entered his forehead. Of course she did. He had been her friend, and now she had to brush his death off her shoulder and keep walking. His eyes lowered, then rose with a jolt as it hit him. _The Prince may of died, but the dirty face of gold is still running strong. The Prince was her friend, Riko. She was the dirty face of gold. Oh._ A sigh tore from his lips as he rose his hand up and drew it down his face, cupping his chin for a quick second before pulling his hand down to clear the frown laying on his lips.

He gave a curt nod and turned away before his guilt could swim into his eyes for her to see. He knew it would make more sense for him to draw her into his arms and soothe her, but he also knew that to keep her stance strong in front of the others she would need to avoid the subject until it was safer. A snort tempted him as he shook his head slightly. _And when will that be, hm? My people will tear her to pieces before she even gets to the gate._ Bellamy glanced back over his shoulder towards the blonde grounder. She was watching him, her blue eyes crisp and devoid of tears or pain. Or of any emotion for that matter. He allowed a short smile to pick up the edge of his lips before following Octavia down the ladder.

His feet dropped against the floor after jumping off the second to bottom step. His eyes trailed up the length of the ladder as he watched Clarke hesitate to start down. It took her a moment to scale the ladder, but once her feet hit the floor the tension that must've frozen her at the top glued her to the spot. Over a dozen eyes were locked in on Clarke, while the rest of the sick delinquents were too exhausted to even notice the new arrival. Bellamy took a step forward to stand in front of the girl, his hand resting on the knife that he had hidden in his pocket. His tongue trailed along his lower lip before his lips parted, just to be quickly interrupted before the first word had even skipped off his tongue.

"Skaikru!" _Sky people!_ Bellamy turned slightly to see that Clarke had taken the place beside him, her own lips being dusted by her tongue before she rose her voice once more. "Ai laik Klok kom Trigedakru en ai gaf gouthru klir." She had lifted her chin up high and was taking another step forward as she positioned herself to face the majority of the recovering delinquents. Bellamy felt his eyes narrow as the warrior paused, a smile twisting along her lips as she translated, "I said, I am Clarke of the Woods Clan; I seek safe passage."

Hoarse voices rose from the corners of the drop ship as the kids rose on shaky legs to further express their disgust of the girl. One had moved to swing at her, but Bellamy quickly sidestepped and grabbed at the boy's shoulder. His fingers pinched the muscle as he turned him back towards the wall, giving him a good shove and allowing the weakness in his legs carry him away. "Save your strength. Clarke isn't to be harmed." His gaze shifted back towards the girl standing at his shoulder, "She has already endured enough of that." His voice was low, but it quickly lifted as he turned back to the awaiting glares, "The Grounders have been a worry of ours for too long. Clarke, here, has offered us a chance for peace. As long as that offer stands, we will treat her as our own." He slid his gaze over each set of eyes, making sure to catch each before continuing. "Anyone who touches her will answer to me. Is that clear?"

A soft murmuring cut in between the coughs and Bellamy rose his voice once more, "Is that clear?" He watched as the delinquents took glances in both directions for confirmation that the others agreed before they bobbed their heads. "Good. Now get some rest."

Bellamy turned and pulled Clarke along by the arm, "Come on, we need to get you to Lincoln before something changes." He felt her move beneath his grip, only relaxing once his grip on her lost it's tension. He let a soft "sorry" slip off the edge of his lip as they pushed past the drop ship's plastic sheet and met a new group of frozen onlookers. A sigh scraped his throat as he released Clarke, his eyes trailing along the tense group of healthy delinquents for a moment before realizing that their eyes weren't fixed on them. He felt his eyebrow lift slightly as he cleared his throat and drew the attention back towards him. He wasn't going to risk trying to sneak Clarke past only to be caught midway through the group.

"Ah, big brother. I just got done explaining it to them." Octavia had stepped forward at the sound of her brother clearing his throat, and had quickly hushed the crowd before turning towards him to announce that she'd already had the same discussion as he had just made with the sick ones. Bellamy couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips as he nodded towards her, eyes switching back over to the tensed bunch.

"You heard her right. Clarke is to be untouched until further notice. Anyone who questions that or attempts to lay a hand on her will answer to us." Bellamy nodded towards his little sister as he kept himself from making himself the only punisher. If she was going to stand as the leader in the meeting with the Grounders, then he would have to give her more credit for her efforts among the delinquents.

A muttering similar to that of the others in the drop ship followed his words, but they quieted sooner as they dispersed back into their usual ritual. His eyes trailed after the ones who left last before he continued his trek towards the front gate. Clarke stayed close to his shoulder but even as she moved closer to put more space between herself and the others, she kept her chin up and eyes locked forward. _Brave Princess._ A smile twitched the edge of his mouth as he nodded at the guards to open up the doors. They moved quickly through the gate, his own hand going out to snatch up a gun before they headed into the tree line.

Bellamy shifted the gun in his hands, pointing it at the ground as he tailed behind Clarke while Octavia stood at her side. His eyes swept over the heavy undergrowth and then reached up towards the trees, uncertain as to where the scouts lurked. They strode for another few yards before he noticed the way Clarke's chin had tilted up and her gaze was singling out a large tree up ahead. His gaze followed hers and as they came to stand at the base of the tree, he spotted a subtle movement up in the branches. It wasn't long before a man had lowered himself from the tree and circled around Clarke. The man had dropped into a slight crouch, a long knife stretched out towards him as he blocked their way towards the blonde warrior.

"Daun." _Down_. Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows in as he watched Clarke place her hand over Lincoln's knife hand, pressing it down until his arm had relaxed at his side. His eyes shifted between the two as the tension broke away and the large man took a normal stance. A moment was worn away in silence as the two sized each other up, both holding keeping their weapons ready as they awaited some confirmation of what was happening.

It was Octavia that spoke, "We mean no harm. Clarke told us that we could speak to you about arranging a meeting with your commander. We wish to make peace with your clan." The man was quiet for a moment, his eyes trained on Clarke as he stayed placed between her and the siblings. Bellamy glanced down towards the man's grip on the knife as his own fingers twitched on the gun he held at his side.

"What about the man? Where is he?" His voice was rough, but appeared to have a soft tone hiding beneath it. Fear for a friend? Bellamy bit down on his lower lip before nodding slightly, clearing his throat as his eyes kept moving to avoid catching the man's eyes.

"Clarke said to tell you that-" He paused briefly as he met the girl's eyes and kept going, "The Prince may of died, but the dirty face of gold is still running strong." He drew in a long breath and held it there, his eyes shuffling over towards the man as he awaited a reaction. He was surprised to hear the man let out a long, drawn out sigh before turning to pull Clarke into his arms. His hand was patting down her hair, and despite the rough way they collided and the awkward way they stood he could see the way Clarke's face was struggling to conceal everything. It was obvious that this embrace wasn't common, but it still eased his own shoulders as he watched the man console the girl. It was a quick embrace and they were soon back to their normal stances, expressions drawing to a blank as they shared a nod and Clarke separated from his side.

"Return her to the camp if you must, but if we are going to do this then we need to get a move on it. Our Commander is not happy with Clarke's disappearance, and if she does not hear news of her safety soon she will act on it." Lincoln moved back towards the trees and called back over his shoulder, "Meet me in the clearing beside the stream in an hour."

Bellamy parted his lips to call out after him for further instruction, but the man had already departed and made his way down the hillside. A grunt slipped past before he turned to face the girls, nodding up towards the camp before leading the way back. Octavia bumped shoulders with him as she met his stride, while Clarke strode a yard off from them. His eyes met hers as she leapt over a tree root, landing a pace closer to him and matching his stride. His gun was still lowered and his knife was tucked away in his pocket. Even after the night prior, he had expected her to try and escape at any given moment. He caught a smile that was curling her lips and he moved slightly over to bump his shoulder into her. A soft laugh broke the silence and he swept his arm around her waist, hugging her to his side for a brief moment before releasing her.

"I'll get you set up with Miller and Sterling. Neither will let the others touch you, but-" He ran his eyes over her with a smirk, "I have a feeling you can handle your own." He caught her smirk and pushed through the gate, "We'll be back soon. And we'll try to maintain the peace while we are there." As they moved past the guards, he nodded his head towards the drop ship to signal Miller and Sterling to tail them. "Come on, you both are on Clarke's guard detail." He glanced towards Clarke as he continued their conversation, "I'd say stick to the drop ship for now. Harper is friendly; she can keep you company and maybe put you to work if you feel up to it." Bellamy shifted his gaze between the many stares of the teens around them, "It may be good for them to see you working with her. I'd just-" He paused as he swept the plastic sheet on the drop ship door out of the way, "I'd just stick to treating the healthier ones in case they get the bright idea to blame you for one of them not pulling through."

"I understand." Clarke moved in front of him and locked her eyes with his, "I'll keep out of trouble and gain trust. It's simple. Now, go." He felt the eyes of the two guards behind him and moved in a tight circle to face them. They were both clutching guns but unlike the other guns they had taken their fingers off the trigger when around Clarke. He gave a short nod and moved back towards the drop ship door, "Keep watch of Clarke until I'm back. Don't hesitate to reprimand anyone who tries to mess with her." He shifted his gaze around the room as he found Harper, "She is allowed to be put to work under Harper, but wherever she goes one of you must be with her. Understood?"

Both men gave a firm nod of their head before he turned with a nod, heading out of the drop ship and towards his tent. He had a meeting to pack for. A meeting he couldn't risk screwing up.

Clarke

Once Bellamy had left the drop ship, Clarke had turned to meet the gaze of her newly appointed guards. Her eyes trailed up the length of their bodies as she locked in on each weapon she could visibly see. Both held guns at their side, straps looped over their shoulders, but there was also the imprint of a knife in the thigh pocket of Sterling's pants. She gave a short nod as she turned away from the men and headed towards the girl she presumed was Harper. The girl was of similar height and age with sandy blonde hair that was draped over her shoulders, two thick braids holding some of the hair out of her face while a black bandanna looped her forehead to corral the rest of it.

Clarke let a smile sit on her lips as she approached the girl, her hands slightly upwards in surrender as she moved around the table that held a more recently sickened teen. The male patient appeared to be about fifteen years old and he didn't look too good. She moved closer to his side, but was intercepted by Harper. She bit down on her lower lip as she rose her gaze to meet hers. _Okay, I guess she is a little taller than me._ "I'm not going to hurt him. I'm here to help."

She eyed the girl in front of her, noting the hesitation as the girl appeared quite conflicted. After releasing a sigh, she found her path cleared and she moved quickly to the boy's side. She trailed her hand over to his forehead and felt for a fever before lowering her fingers to his throat. She pressed at it softly as she moved him onto his side. "He needs to release the blood." She mumbled slightly below her breath as she moved around the table, confusion riddling her eyes as she observed the boy's subtle movements. He wasn't strong enough to heave, and the blood wasn't of a high enough volume to force itself out yet. She chewed on her lower lip as she moved back to the head of the boy. She quickly stuck her fingers down the boy's throat in hopes of his gag reflex being strong enough to push his body to force it out of his system. She hadn't even stepped back before the boy curled forward, his body jerking as he heaved on both the table and the floor beside her feet. She moved around the pile of bloody bile and rubbed her hand across the boy's back, moving her hand in a circle as she hummed softly.

When the boy's body had calmed down and he settled back down on the table to rest, Clarke turned to find numerous sets of eyes on her. Not only was Harper sitting back stunned alongside her guards, but a few of the sickened teenagers were watching her with a look of confusion. Her eyes lowered as she shrugged her shoulders lightly, moving away from the boy's side as she found her way towards a bin of water nearby.

Clarke continued to move through the patients alongside Harper, trading information as they cooled temperatures and darted out of the way when a teen gave in to the need to puke. She had even managed to pull Sterling along with her as she ordered him to check the temperatures of various teens throughout the shift. Little was spoken between her and the guards, but she caught the smiles that formed and fell on their lips as they watched her treat yet another sick teen. She had observed her own healer treat multiple wounds, including her own, and although she had never officially apprenticed under one she had always been fond of the trade. A smile perked along her lips as she watched another teen get dismissed from bed rest.

As the day drew out, Clarke found herself glancing towards the drop ship door in anticipation. She hadn't heard any news from Bellamy or Octavia, and it was beginning to worry her even when she realized the trek to the meeting place alone would've taken a decent chunk of time. Her eyes lowered to her feet as she moved back to the seat near the main table in the drop ship. A frown laced her lips as she settled her elbows on the table, hunched over slightly as she fiddled her thumbs.

A cough echoed her way and she turned slightly in her chair, head lifting to meet Miller's gaze. She had spoken to him the least throughout the past hours, but even so he had become a comforting figure. His demeanor was calming, even with a gun hooked under his arm, and he had yet to give her a reason to worry about him being in close proximity to her. "He'll be fine."

Clarke lowered her eyes to her feet and crushed one of the leaves, that must've been trekked in, below her foot. "I know." She rubbed the cracked pieces of leaf into thinner pieces before lifting her gaze with a sigh, "I just need something to keep my mind off of it." Her gaze swept quickly over the heads of the teenagers who were still presently occupying the room. Throughout the shift, they had sent seven back to their tents with an order to keep the workload light and had managed to get the newly sickened ones into a more stable condition. The sickness was nearly over.

"I need to restock the sea weed. We could head down to the river and collect some more." Clarke's head jolted up at the sound of Harper's voice. "It isn't too far away. We'd be back before Bellamy and Octavia." Clarke narrowed her eyes slightly as she puzzled over the last name spoken. It clicked and Clarke nodded, _finally I know her full name_. She shifted her eyes towards Miller and spotted the hesitation in his lips as he stumbled for words.

"What if we ask Sterling? I know you don't want to risk getting on Bellamy's bad side, so we could have him escort us?" Clarke didn't even try to avoid the plea in her voice as she tried to muster up an innocent look. She watched as the lean muscles in his arm tightened and he turned quickly, retreating out of the drop ship.

"What does that mean? Is he getting Sterling?" Clarke puzzled as she stared after the man, the plastic flap coming to settle in it's normal rise and fall with the breeze. Harper moved close nearby, her hands clutching two sacks as she seemed to be preparing to head out regardless of whether or not they had been given permission. Clarke was about to call off the trip when Sterling emerged from the drop ship door, his head cocked slightly to the side as he held the plastic screen's flap open, "So, who's up for a trip to the river?"

Clarke hurried after Harper as they snatched the bags back up, placed a girl named Fox in charge of the patients, and headed out the door. Harper had also been cooped up in the tin room all day and was just about leaving her shoes in her jog to the gate. It took a moment for Sterling to get the approval of the guards at the gate, but soon they were clustered out in the forest with their backs to the camp.

Little did they know that someone else had found their own way out of camp and was now tailing them as they made their way out to the riverbank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bum BUm BUM! So sorry about the cliff hanger, but I can't resist adding them in! Please review and tell me what you think; I love hearing back from you all! Also just in case there was any confusion as to why Clarke did not speak for herself, Bellamy spoke for her because as stated in the last chapter it wasn't expected that she'd be allowed to speak directly to Lincoln. 
> 
> Remember Requests are Open on my Tumblr [I-mthebadguy!](http://i-mthebadguy.tumblr.com/) (All requests are published here, so you can anon it if you want)


	7. An Act Of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke goes off on a short trip with Harper and Sterling. Meanwhile, Bellamy and Octavia must put their faith in a grounder named Lincoln in order to make peace with his commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am taking requests on my tumblr I-mthebadguy!  
> I hope this chapter meets all of your expectations, and I can't wait to hear your feedback! (Please take the time to leave behind a little comment; it is much more personal than a kudos or a view and it helps me to keep inspired when writing)

Clarke

The forest was awake with energy as the wind whistled between the trees and the crunch of shoes on the forest floor bounced back to meet it. A whisper drew from the trees as the leaves among their branches fluttered along with the breeze that curled through the dense forest. An excited squeal rose above the rest of the noise as the group of three climbed over the body of a fallen tree. Sterling was quick to shush the girl who seemed to just be floored to be free of the metal coffin that was the drop ship. Clarke glanced back towards the two, unable to hide the smile that pulled on her lips as she watched Harper run her fingers through the long grass.

"Shouldn't I be the one enjoying the freedom?" She laughed softly as she glanced towards the trees, part of her wondering if any of the scouts were tailing them. Clarke rose her hand out to block the slices of sunlight that had fallen across her face, and she found her eyes trailing down to the lines cut into her arms that crisscrossed a series of yellow bruises. Her lips pursed as she lowered her arm, touching the marks with her fingers. It was from her time with Murphy before he had been dismissed from guarding her. The rest of the marks were still just as visible, but being that they were on her chest and back they weren't out for everyone to see. She quickly tugged her jacket sleeves back down, but caught the eye of Sterling as the sleeve flitted back over the marks. Her eyes fell back down to her feet, lifting a moment later to check that they were on the right track. The river wasn't far off, but she felt it would last forever if she didn't get them to take her mind off of the pain that had blossomed back into view, "How long were you cooped up in the drop ship?"

"Since the sickness started up. I had already been exposed to the first sick kids, and I was going to be one of the main people to take care of them so there was no real point to me leaving." Harper's voice seemed a bit off as she spoke, her eyes shifting back to Clarke every few words. Clarke understood immediately. She may not of transferred the sickness to their people, but she had been the reason behind it's delivery. Her eyes lowered to her feet as they all shifted into an uneasy silence. The tension could be cut with a blade, and it got to her quickly. Her fingers curled into a fist at her side, eyes slipping closed as she pinched them tight in irritation.

"Stop. Just stop." Clarke could feel the eyes on her as she turned and planted herself in front of the two, "I didn't intend for your people to get hurt and I am trying to help you now. So just stop looking at me like a killer. I may be the enemy, but I don't want to be." Her fist had risen to poke at the air between them and the two had slapped their hands down on their weapons, and despite the words meant to soothe their nerves -although rather poorly done- they were stiffer than before she'd parted her lips. A sigh trickled off her low lip as her arms fell to her side in exasperation, her shoulders slumping as she fought for an idea. After a moment of tense standoff, she gestured towards the trees around them and continued, "Pay attention to something else. The leaves, the wind, the animals. Anything besides me." Clarke tried to tune out the two frozen figures beside her as she took in the cramped woods around her, but the tension was too thick for her to deny. She couldn't help the clipped bite of her words as she turned, "Relax! You need to stop focusing on preparing for my attack when you are supposed to tap into everything around you. The change in the air, the volume of the bird song, and the depth of the crunches around you. You need to be constantly listening in." Her eyes narrowed in on Sterling before she shrugged her shoulders with an audible huff, "You miss a lot when you are fixated on the body language of a partner. I'm not the real enemy, so turn your focus onto the approach of one."

Clarke shifted her gaze over the two as they stood frozen for a few more moments, their grips on the weaponry loosening as the moment persisted. She watched as Harper turned her attention to the trees, following her advice as she tuned into the birdsong overhead. The edge of her lip twitched up as she turned expectantly towards Sterling, "Focus on the softer sounds. The leaves settling on the ground, the birds hopping in the branches, and the squirrel nearby." Her gaze moved towards the latter of the sounds, finding the squirrel overhead as it scurried between the branches. Clarke held out her head towards Sterling, "Knife please."

"And why would I do that?" It didn't come as a surprise that the boy would deny her the weapon, but Clarke wasn't about to just let a good meal pass overhead. Her blue eyes rolled as she moved forward, latching her fingers around the knife's handle and pulling it away from him despite the boy's loud protest. She growled out an order to quiet down as she detached herself from him. He hadn't attacked in response to her sudden approach and theft of the knife, but she wasn't about to allow him to change his mind and go in for a late reaction.

"Don't worry, I prefer my kills to be animal and not human." She drew backward a few steps before positioning herself to face the tree carrying the noisy squirrel. She could see the pair following her movements from her peripheral. A slight smile tickled the edge of her lips as she pulled her arm back and threw the knife up towards the lower tree limbs. A slight squeak like noise erupted from the branches before the fluffy rodent fell free from the tree's clutches.

"Impressive." Sterling had joined her as she came back from the undergrowth, the abnormally large squirrel swinging from her hands. "Think you can teach us how to aim that well?" His words were somewhat hesitant, but Clarke wasn't surprised that he felt at odds after visibly questioning her loyalty.

"Of course."

Bellamy

The forest was eerily quiet as they strode through it, their own footsteps shushed by the bed of pine needs beneath the soles of their shoes. The grounder had specifically taken them through an area of pines to train them to take a silent approach. He swore he heard the man mumble something about them being as bad as children, but he let it go as his attention drew back towards the rustling around him. They hadn't come across any predators, but he had the pleasure of coming across a rabbit early on in the trip. It now hung limply from his belt, swaying and bumping into his calf as he jumped over a fallen tree. The pines had thinned out and now he had to focus more on each step he made. They were supposedly on truce for this meeting, but he didn't want to draw any attention before that momentary truce even begun.

Every few hundred yards, the grounder called Lincoln would pause to point out the subtle noises. The flutter of wings, the rustle of leaves, the change in wind direction. It seemed rather pointless, but as the trip drew on he found himself becoming more aware like the man had wanted him to. It wasn't long before he had another animal swinging at his hip. This one he didn't recognize, but Lincoln was quick to call it a weasel. But as long as it was edible, Bellamy didn't care about the name or if it had a bitter taste. It was food and that was all that mattered.

With such a quiet space, it wasn't long before Bellamy's mind wandered to what was happening back in camp. He had cleared the grounder with the 100, but he wouldn't doubt them still remaining fearful of her presence. He just hoped his guards would keep her safe and contained within the camp walls. He wanted to trust her, but he knew better than to allow free roam to someone who had just recently complied. He had to hold in a groan as he rubbed a hand over his face. If this girl proved to be an ally, then he had a long talk to look forward to if he wanted to truly be forgiven for his and his guards' harsh behavior. He had seen the marks beneath her sleeves and knew she still felt the pain of each wound they had branded her with. And that didn't even include the nonvisible wounds such as the drowning sessions. He groaned out loud this time, and was rewarded a confused look from Octavia. He gave a quick shake of his head to ward off her questions before taking the lead once more.

The trip took far longer than he had suspected, but according to the grounder they were making good time. The cloud coverage was too thick to tell the time using the sun, but he had to trust that they'd make it back before nightfall. He was on edge during the day, so even with the grounder's lessons of observation he couldn't find it in himself to feel confident in a night trip. He shifted his gaze back towards the rest of his group. Octavia and Lincoln were the only others with him. Well, as far as the grounder knew that is. He had gathered a second group while grabbing provisions, and they still tailed them now as they neared the meeting location. He had been careful with this group. Jasper, Raven, and Finn. They were trustworthy, able, and seemed to work well in stressful situations. Plus, he didn't know much about the others in the 100 and wasn't about to put trust into a kid he had yet to spend a little time with. He just hoped the spacewalker was as good of a tracker as he had gloated about because he had run out of nuts to drop after him two hundred yards ago.

Bellamy wasn't certain whether or not the grounder had noticed their followers yet, but with each twitch of the head and pause in his steps he became less confident in his group's ability to remain unheard of. He nearly paused the group to call them out when Lincoln appeared to take too long of a stop, but was quickly halted by the man drawing his arrow out to take out a hog snorting near by. Part of him wished to ask for the rights of the hog, but he kept his jaw tightened as he trekked on ahead. He wasn't looking to ask for help. His people were capable of feeding themselves and if it came to it, protecting themselves too.

It isn't long before Bellamy spots a break in the trees where a dried up river is situated beneath a wide, cracked bridge. They pause inside the tree line, bodies pressed behind trees as they skirt around the trunks to eye the bridge. He knows the grounder would rather them simply approach, but he doesn't have it in him to walk out into an easy shooting range. He spots movement in the trees and feels his stomach churn, but he knows the grounders won't be the first to approach the bridge. They were the ones with the higher standing, and they would remain that way with each action they made. Bellamy gave a short huff as he moved out from behind the trees with the pair at his side. Lincoln appeared nervous, his gaze flitting between their group and the other end of the bridge. He had to keep himself from turning back, or from drawing the gun out from the back of his pants. Lincoln had requested a meeting with no weapons, but that hadn't stopped him from stashing a few on his person. Besides, what if they had been attacked during the trip over?

As the group of three halted in the center of the bridge, the movement at the other end increased dramatically. The soft patter of hooves increased and soon they were being approached by three warriors on horseback. Two black horses trotted around a chestnut horse. It was fairly obvious that this one carried the leader, especially when the two black horses were ridden by two men in skeletal masks while the chestnut carried a woman with none. A moment passed between the time the group had paused halfway towards them and the time it took for them to dismount, but it wasn't long before the woman had crossed the short distance to meet them in the center of the bridge. Her attention was immediately on Octavia. A lump formed in Bellamy's throat as Lincoln pulled him back by the shoulder, ushering him away to give the two woman space to speak. He couldn't hear much, but he caught bits and pieces of the conversation. It took a moment but soon he pieced them together and realized the conversation was fixated around Clarke. He had expected that, but as minutes drew on it appeared to remain on the subject of their prisoner.

There was a quiet rustling just beyond the bridge, and Bellamy felt his fingers tighten on the gun handle sticking out of his pants. His eyes shifted away from the leader who had gathered to be called Anya, and looked over her shoulder out towards the trees that concealed whatever was making the noise. "What is that?" Bellamy had lost track of the conversation ahead of him and wondered if it had gone south. _They wouldn't kill us for one prisoner, would they? And if they had planned to all along, why wait to hear us out?_ His worried thoughts broke off before he could continue his questioning when a man appeared from behind the wall of trees with a horse in tow. It was a gorgeous stallion. It's pelt rippled over the muscles of it's strong legs, and he knew instantly that it was one of the better choices for riding companions. The pelt was a strawberry roan shade and it's mane was of a darker, yet similar hue. As it was led onto the pavement of the bridge, the hooves gave off a loud clumping. His eyes tailed the horse as it was handed off to Anya, the woman's hand finding the fur saddle and clenching onto it to stop the horse. The handler was quickly dismissed before the commander returned her gaze onto Octavia and Bellamy. He watched as the woman's hand pulled on the saddle as she led it the rest of the way towards him before her hand dropped from it's side.

The horse paused at his side, it's broad head swinging to knock against his shoulder before it moved in a tight circle to hover behind him. Bellamy moved his hand back towards the large animal and caught a grip of the saddle's end. A quick look towards Octavia told him that she wasn't surprised by this occurrence, but even then he could see she was trying to contain her frightened excitement. He turned back towards the commander, waiting for an explanation.

"This is Stourmi. He is Clarke's horse. If Clarke doesn't show by nightfall, we are going to have a problem. Is that understood?" The woman's voice was firm, stiffened with it's lack of emotion. Bellamy felt himself shift uneasily within his skin as he watched Octavia nod back towards the stone-faced grounder. He had gathered from the pieces of the conversation that Clarke was of importance, whether that be by standing or by friendship he didn't know. But it became quite clear all of a sudden just how royally screwed they were with the girl in their custody.

"She will be back at nightfall. You have my word." It still seemed odd that he wasn't the one speaking for them, but he had to hand it to his sister for taking up the leader role so smoothly. If all went well and they could train themselves to become their own warriors, he would have to designate her as a real leader. It was a frightening thought, but she had taken a strong reign over the 100 and had begun to take on his own tasks as leader. The least he could do was officially name her his co-leader when she was already acting as such.

"Good. Because if she does not-" The woman, Anya, paused with a smooth lipped grin that despite it's friendly appearance was easily distinguished as a lie, "I will not hesitate to take your actions as an act of war."


End file.
